Heat stroke

This is my view 20 minutes before my Professional Responsibility class starts:

I am on the off-ramp of 35W¹ when this random blond lady passes my car on the grass of the off-ramp.

Before I get a chance to wonder who this nutcase is, she pulls her car in front of me, slams on her brakes, and gets out of the car screaming:

Lady: “OH MY GOD! HELP! HELP! My arms!”
Me: “Uh, what?”
Lady: “My hands! My arms! I can’t feel my hands! Call 911! I can’t move my hands! I need to get to a hospital!”
Me: “Uh, I don’t have my cell with me.”

The lady is beet-red, on the slope of the off-ramp, and screaming at me. Her fingers are frozen together like a Barbie doll’s hands, so she has to heave her body when she throws her cellphone at me. I catch the phone and dial 911.

Lady: “Hurry up!”
911 operator: “Minneapolis 911…”
Me: “Uh, hi. I’m at the off ramp of 35W and Lake Street and the woman in the car in front of me is having a medical emergency… wait, she’s getting in my car…”
Lady (getting in my passenger seat): “I can’t move my arms! I have no feeling in my hands! AHHH!!”
Me: “She can’t move her arms.”
Lady: “I think have heat stroke! I just played four softball games…”
Me: “She thinks she has heat stroke”
Operator: “Ask her if she’s had a heart attack or aneurysm…”
Me: “Have you had a heart attack or aneurysm?”
Lady: “Aneur-what? No. No.”

The problem is that the lady parked right at the foot of the off-ramp, so we are blocking traffic. Everyone is getting out of their cars, wondering what was going on. There is some cursing in Somali behind us…

A small, shirtless blond boy appears at my car window and the lady screams at him to get her wallet.

I ask the driver behind me to move the lady’s car from the off-ramp. I then park in front of her car on the nearest street and wait for the paramedics. The lady is hyperventilating, shouting, and waiving her dead-hamster-hands in the air.

Her small son keeps roaming around the street, and I then see a small, crying girl get out of the woman’s car…

Me: “How many kids do you have with you?”
Lady: “Just the two. HURRY UP!”

The 911-operator puts a medic on the phone.

Medic: “The ambulance is coming soon. I need you to keep her in a cool place and strip off any outer layers of clothing.”
Me: “Uh, she’s wearing shorts and an undershirt…I think that’s about as much as we can do while keeping things modest.”
Lady: “Can’t you just drive to the hospital? We are so close!”
Medic (on the phone, overhearing her): “NO YOU MAY NOT DRIVE HER TO THE HOSPITAL! Stay there! It’s too much liability to move her.”
Lady (screaming at the phone): “Then you’re going to have to comp my ambulance ride since I don’t have insurance!”

I shove my Wills & Trusts book over so the lady’s daughter can get into my car.

Me: “I think I see the ambulance.”
Medic: “Is it number 419?”
Me: “Yes.”
Medic: “No. That’s not for her, that already has a passenger in it. Your ambulance is coming…”
Me: Busy day huh?

Then, all at once, a police car comes off of the highway, a fire truck comes from behind us, and an ambulance comes from in front of us. We were completely surrounded by rescue vehicles… I greet the police officers as the medics drag the lady into the ambulance.

Female officer: “So are you related to her?”
Me: “Oh no, I was driving when she stopped in front of me and asked for help.”
Officer: “Oh, so you just stopped to help.”
Me: “Well, sort of, she parked in the middle of the off-ramp right in front of me, so me and the people behind me didn’t have much choice…”
The cops put the children in the police cruiser, and after I gave the police my contact information I got into my car and realized that I had the interesting problem of being parked in by the ambulance in front of me, the woman’s car behind me, and the police cruiser on my side…

An old man with wild hair came out of one of the houses on the street and knocked on my car window.

Grandpa: “Is everything okay?”
Me: “Oh, yeah, uh…the lady had heat stroke or something.”
Grandpa: “Oh, okay, well you’re blocking my driveway…”
Me: “Oh, sorry, uh, yeah, I’m trying to get to class and I’m sort of parked in by the ambulance and the cop car…uh, I’ll ask him to move.”
Grandpa: “Because I need to leave in like 6 minutes…”
Me: “Yes, uh, sorry again, I’ll ask the cop to move.”
Grandpa: “I just wanted to make sure…because I need to leave and all..”

So knocked on the side of the police cruiser, had him move, and then sped to class.

I was only about a minute late to class (after leaving work an entire hour before class).  I walked into class sweated-out and looking like 10-flavors of crazy.

When I told Jill the story after class she said:

Jill: “This stuff always happens you.”
Me: “Ugh. I know! My goal is not to have to call 911 for at least a month.”
Jill: “Hah. I’ve never even called 911…like ever! The universe sends the craziness your way because you have a blog.”
Me: “Well I need the universe to stop.”

Dear Universe: Stop sending the crazy my way.

I’m serious.

 

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¹ A big highway in Minneapolis that’s permanently under construction